


But ISN'T it exciting?

by inthisdive



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 09:05:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15969146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthisdive/pseuds/inthisdive
Summary: Pre-pre-pre-series, that Marauder era, as it were. Sirius thinks life is one big adventure. Remus isn’t so sure he agrees, and his reason is simple. This was written in 2008.





	But ISN'T it exciting?

“Oh, it's all terribly important,” Sirius had said once to Remus as they discussed their involvement with the Order of the Phoenix, “But terribly _exciting_ too, don't you think?”

“Not really,” Remus had replied, giving him a look, “But I agree with you on the importance of it all.” 

“You just don't know how to have fun, Moony.” 

Moony. Remus hadn't heard that one for a little while (nicknames lapsed easily under fraught circumstances, they had discovered), and he gave Sirius a genuine, if not slightly reluctant, smile. And as for fun, well, that had never been Remus' strong suit. “That's why I keep you on, isn't it?” 

“I thought it was my good looks.” 

“Never, Padfoot,” said Remus, fondly. “Never will that be the case.” And then he ducked down, ever so serenely, to avoid Sirius' playful assault.

It was easy to keep things light when the harder subjects were dropped.

* 

“No, but _really_ ,” Sirius protested – hours later, seemingly out of nowhere. “Are you telling me you don’t find all this secret goings-on, saving the Wizarding world, cloak-and-dagger song and dance the slightest bit exciting?” 

“We were talking about books,” Remus protested faintly, brushing his too-long hair out of his eyes. 

“We can’t have been,” Sirius said, blithe, draping an arm around Remus’ shoulders, “because, as you well know, Master Remus, I don’t read books.” 

“You do so.” Remus smiled over at him. “You read anything I put in front of you. You’re a _voracious_ reader, I’m afraid.” 

“We’re off-topic. Moony, why must you insist in making all our conversations drift away from the point?” 

“The point was reading,” Remus reminded him, smiling despite himself. Moony again – perhaps today was a good day. “This conversation, before you steered it away from its topic, had a very nice one originally. It was about reading. Remember?” 

“No, I remember we were talking about the Order.” 

“Eight hours ago. In the kitchen. We’re now in the garden.”

“And you, Remus Lupin, old Remus Lupin, said he didn’t find it in the least bit thrilling that we were fighting in a classic good versus evil kind of fight. You, Remus Lupin! Whose favourite books are all _about_ good versus evil!”

“Yes,” Remus said, reasonably and just a tad fraught and just a dash too fast in pace, “but those are just books.” 

“And now they’re real life!” 

Remus turned and looked at him. He had thought a bit too soon, this day wasn’t quite so wonderful – because that right there was his point, wasn’t it? Quiet, serious, his eyes level with Sirius’: “That’s the problem, isn’t it.” 

And he got up, calm as you like, and walked inside. 

*  
Sirius lay stretched out on his back in the garden, mulling the point over, chewing on it like it was gum. They were living in a sort of otherworldly world, Sirius knew that. And that, he proposed to the audience of his thoughts, was his _point_. Of course Sirius believed in the cause with all his heart and of course he knew it was serious and dangerous, but look, he continued (in his mind’s eye a lecturer on a dais, presenting his case with impressive, if not indecipherable, graphs and charts backgrounding him), look, that’s part of the attraction to do what’s right. He nodded to himself, both in his head and on the grass. 

And the audience spoke in a tinny voice of dissent that was not unlike, purely coincidentally, the voice of one Remus Lupin, now regrettably missing from the grass and the sunshine and from under Sirius’ leg ,where the stomach of that Lupin had once been. 

Sirius listened to that voice and sat up, his eyes slowly going wider, gradually forgetting how to blink. 

_Oh_. 

*

Remus’ bedroom was quiet and smelled of wet dog and wet books. He rather liked it, and he liked the cool, not too scratchy blanket against his cheek, the way the curtains drew to give him the evening in the middle of the afternoon. Remus was lucky with his room, because it meant he could always summon some peace and quiet. 

“Remus!” came a shrieking cry, and seconds later Sirius skidded into the room, panting and out of breath. “Remus!” he repeated, striding over to the curtains and flinging them open, “Stop sitting in the dark, I have to tell you something!”

Well. Usually he could have some peace and quiet. 

World-weary and a bit annoyed, Remus sat up. “What is it?” 

“I _get_ it,” Sirius announced, his hands on his hips and his head throw back. It wasn’t without affection that Remus realised for at least the hundredth time that Sirius was a born poser.

Remus knew what he had to do, and, dutifully: “Get what?”

“I _understand,_ ” Sirius persisted, pointing a finger at Remus, “I understand your point. Your stance. Your views, your beliefs, all of that nonsense.”

“And thank you for calling them nonsense.” 

“No, really, Remus.” Remus looked at Sirius, and yes, he was being sincere. He softened and sat up, patting a space on his bed. When Sirius sat, he patted again, but this time it was so his hand would find Sirius’ knee. 

Sirius sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” 

“Forgetting.” 

“Forgetting what?” Remus prodded, with that familiar vague feeling that he was supposed to prod, that Sirius wanted the conversation to plod along this way for some kind of greater dramatic purpose.

“That you think about things more than any of us ever do. Or, more than me.” 

Dramatic purpose achieved – Remus looked up at him in surprise. 

“You’ve weighed the pros and cons, haven’t you, Moony?” Sirius continued, affectionate and still serious, for once sounding both the full extent of his age and a hint of the wisdom beyond it. 

“You’ve thought about cause and effect and all those other things from your books – collateral damage, line of fire, ethics and bad things happening to good people. You’re _worried_.”

Wisdom and Sirius Black. Remus couldn’t decide if he liked this new partnership.

“And it’s even worse for you because everything’s always worse for my poor Remus and his bad luck. You’re probably going to have the hardest lot.” Sirius smiled, then, but it was lopsided and sad, and he rested his head on Remus’ shoulder. 

Remus was a bit taken aback, really; he just nodded. 

“Hope you don’t mind if I get a bit piratical and adventurous while we’re working, though.” 

“I’d worry if you didn’t, but I hope you don’t mind if I worry when you do.” 

“Wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. _I’d_ worry,” Sirius drawled with a happier smile, and he closed his eyes into their comfortable-again silence.

*

After a long while Remus replied. “Just don’t get hurt, all right? Just don’t,” were the words, but he’d left it too long. Sirius, just like an overexcited puppy, was asleep on his shoulder. 

“Just don’t,” Remus said again, and pulled his blanket up over their laps.


End file.
